


Traps, Tropes, and Tethras

by Dezreki



Series: The Inspiration [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dezreki/pseuds/Dezreki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight with Red Templars, Varric and and Cassandra are trapped in a cave that is getting darker and colder by the hour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traps, Tropes, and Tethras

Varric’s arms were crossed in front of his chest as he followed the Inquisitor, Cassandra, and Dorian through the caverns of one of Emprise du Lion’s many mountains. Faint patches of blood were visible on the ground and walls, a reminder of the struggle between Inquisition forces and Corypheus’ Red Templars. Inquisition soldiers were dispatched days prior to collect bodies and clean up the remnants of combat, but there was nothing to gain in wiping blood from the rocky walls in a seldom-traveled cavern.

It wasn’t the blood that bothered Varric; it wasn’t the cold, either. It wasn’t the threat of attackers or wild beasts. It wasn’t even Dorian’s constant allegations that the group had him travel in the rear so that they weren’t distracted by his figure.  No, Varric had grown accustomed to all of this in his time with this Inquisition. It was the overwhelming presence of the one thing Varric could never learn to ignore that kept the Dwarf’s arms close to his chest, his breathing irregular, and his heart beating faster than it ever should:

Red lyrium.

The Inquisitor usually took as many precautions as possible to ensure that Varric would not have to accompany on any operations involving the uncovering of large red lyrium patches, but on the seldom chance that Varric was asked to assist, he did not put up a fight. Sometimes, though, Varric definitely wished he could say “no.”

“Varric,” Dorian’s inappropriately cheerful voice broke the silence among the Inquisitor’s inner circle.

Varric body language made no change; instead, the Dwarf only spoke the mage’s nickname in retort. “Sparkler.”

“About that book you wrote: _Swords and Swingers_ –“

“ _Swords and Shields_ ,” Varric corrected. “It’s a **romance** serial.”

Dorian lightly raised and lowered his shoulders. “I heard a rumor that a sequel is in the works.”

Varric had an inclination where this conversation was headed yet humored Dorian. “The sales weren’t exactly what my publisher expected, but a draft for the sequel exists in case we want to take a risk.”

“I also heard that it was the wishes of one particular fan that sped along the draft.”

Varric could feel the mage’s smug grin. “The only thing that can speed along a piece of writing is an author’s inspiration and motivation, Sparkler.”

“So what was your inspiration and motivation, Varric? For a romance novel, no less. I know when I write, my inspiration comes from my various exploits in the b –“

“Red Templars!” Cassandra’s commanding voice immediately shifted the tone of the group. Without a second’s delay, Varric pulled Bianca from the holster on his back before throwing himself against a stalagmite for cover.

After loading a bolt onto Bianca’s deck, Varric leaned over to peek around the side of the stalagmite and quickly assessed the situation. Three Red Templars armed with swords charged down the cavern’s corridor. Behind them stood two archers laying down a suppressing fire in the Inquisitor’s direction, keeping them pinned behind another stalagmite. Cassandra positioned herself at the end of the corridor, prepared to be the first to engage the corrupted Templars.

From a tactical perspective, Varric knew the obvious course of action: Remove the two archers and allow the Inquisitor to move into a more advantageous position. Why, then, did he find himself launching Bianca’s first bolt into the chest of a Red Templar poised to engage with Cassandra? In fact, even his second bolt found its way to a Templar exchanging blows with the Seeker.

With the immediate area cleared, Dorian yelled for Cassandra to drop to the ground. Without question, the Seeker threw herself onto the cold dirt and wrapped her hands around the back of her head. A burst of flame flew overhead, enveloping the entirety of the corridor. By the time the fire dissipated, nothing remained of the Red Templars; but in their place, stood one of the most loathsome red lyrium-induced abominations, a Horror.

With red lyrium crystals growing from its back, the Horror was gruesome to behold; and with its body taking up the whole corridor, it was also a fearsome opponent. Dorian did not waste a second sending volleys of flame down the corridor to slow its advance. Varric reached for another bolt while the Inquistor and Cassandra awaited the monster at the end of the corridor. The Dwarf turned around the stalagmite once more to fire another bolt, pulling himself behind it again only to see three more Red Templars coming from the opposite direction.

“Well, shit.”

Varric slouched against the stalagmite while positioning another bolt in Bianca’s deck. He was quick – years with Bianca and practice reloading in high-stress situations with both Hawke and the Inquisitor forced him to be. Yet Varric knew his limitations, and those Red Templars would be there before he could even load his next bolt. He released a bolt into the nearest of the three and blurted out the only thing he could think of:

“Seeker!”

Before the world could fully leave his mouth, Cassandra was standing in front of him. Her knees were bent slightly in a defensive position, her shield held close to her midsection and elbow slightly bent to lunge with the impressive blade. There was no way she reacted that quickly to his call, he knew; Cassandra had already noticed the threat to Varric’s life and responded faster than he could have anticipated.

“Varric, focus on the Horror!” There were two problems with this order for Varric. One: he had an urge – an almost inescapable urge – to do the exact opposite of whatever the Seeker asked. Two: there was a chance that Cassandra would be flanked by the remaining Red Templars and that put her at a severe disadvantage. Naturally, the next bolt went through the throat of one of the two remaining Templars.

“Varric!” Cassandra yelled, her tone laced with frustration and fury. “ **Horror!** ”

Another bolt in the deck. Varric turned the corner to fire, but quickly pulled his head back to dodge a flurry of crystal projectiles. With his back against the stalagmite again, he looked up and saw that several of the shards had dislodged some of the cavern’s foundation overhead and threatened to collapse the section above his and Cassandra’s heads.

The Dwarf scanned the area. His eyes centered on a small opening in the wall to the right. They’d be separated from the others, but that was a small price to pay for not being crushed beneath dirt and rock. He noticed Cassandra was oblivious to what was happening overhead as she began running in the direction toward the Horror.

“Seeker! Go back!” Varric yelled and began his dash to the opening. Cassandra paused – if only for a second – as it was unlike Varric to yell orders in a fight. She did not argue and followed behind Varric into the cavern’s small opening just as the ceiling collapsed behind them.

Cassandra and Varric stood in the center of a small, circular room. There were no passages in or out of this room, save for the one that they came through which was rapidly being blocked off by the previous room’s collapsing ceiling. By the time the collapse subsided, all that was left of the passageway was a small crack at the top which allowed in only the slightest bit of light. The two stood in silence for a moment – absolute silence.

Varric could hear Cassandra take a deep breath. He turned his head to see her eyes were closed and her lips tightened. The release of her breath came with a single word.

“Varric.”

 _Here it comes_ , he knew. She was shaking and he was the only one around; this would lead to only one thing.

“Why couldn’t you just follow orders?”

The first sentence came out in such a resigned tone that Varric thought he may get away without the expected outburst. “You were outnumbered! My bolt was worth more killing something than just pissing off the Horror even more.”

“It could have at least slowed it down!” There it was.

“While a sword through your side would have slowed **you** down!” Varric noticed his elevated tone at the mention of the situation, no matter how hypothetical.

“I was fine, Varric.”

Varric raised his hand and pointed near the Seeker’s face. “You were not fine, and you know it.”

Cassandra stepped in with her right foot and knocked Varric’s hand to the side, grabbing the collar of his shirt in the process. “What does it matter? Now the Inquisitor is in danger and neither of us are there to help! It is because of you that –“

Varric – usually able to keep calm during back-and-forth matches with Cassandra, yelled back. “Stop it!” He jerked back, pulling himself away from her grip. Cassandra looked to retort, but the Dwarf cut in once more. “Sometimes things just happen; it’s not always someone’s fault.” They both knew that the statement ran deeper than just their immediate situation.

She knew that Varric’s words were true. Cassandra lowered her head slightly; while she was sometimes quick to react, she never found herself without fault. “I’m sorry. That was not right of me to blame you. None of us could have expected that ambush.” Cassandra sighed before turning her head to the room’s entrance.

Rock and dirt covered all but the very top of the opening, which would allow air to flow in and out of the cave. Cassandra approached the rocks and pushed, using the full weight of her body against it, but nothing would budge.

“Can you kick through it?”

She shot him a puzzled look. “Are you serious?”

“I see you kick through and throw your body through doors and walls on a regular basis; I figured it could be a viable strategy, but evidently even the Seeker’s strength has its limits.”

Cassandra pursed her lips and her demeanor quickly changed from puzzled to irritated; it was a fairly common development when Varric was involved. “That’s two feet of rock.”

“I didn’t think that’d stop the Seeker.”

“Nobody could get through that!”

Varric had his back turned to the Seeker while he set Bianca against the wall of the cave. “Sparkler could.”

“That’s magic, that’s different!”

“Different or not, I’ll tell you who would have had us out of this room.”

Cassandra opened her mouth, but stopped before speaking. Varric was walking along the edges of the room, knocking on the walls as he moved. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice unchanging.

“I’m trying to find a hollow point in the room where it may lead to the rest of the cave.”

“How would you even get through if there was a hollow point?”

Varric shrugged. “I hadn’t through that far ahead yet. Have you kick it, perhaps? I don’t know. We’re just looking for options here.”

Cassandra groaned and tossed her sword against the wall. Varric made sure to keep his head turned away from her; he did not want to risk her seeing him unable to control his grin.

Several minutes pass with no sound, save for Varric’s rhythmic knocking. Upon reaching the opposite end of the room, he came to a halt and looked behind him to see Cassandra sitting against the wall.

Varric said nothing for the moment and instead just watched Cassandra. She was sitting with her back against the wall and knees raised; her sword was clutched closely to her chest. The unexpected attacker may have seen the Seeker in a vulnerable state, but Varric knew better. Cassandra’s eyes were slightly narrowed, and he was well aware she could strike at a second’s notice.

She noticed the absence of knocking and raised her head. “Are you finished?”

Varric shrugged and sat on the opposite side of the room adjacent Bianca.

Silence filled the room with the passing of time only able to be calculated by the small bit of light that was flowing into the room slowly fading away. Cassandra’s eyes seemed to be shut, but Varric still believed she could retaliate at any moment.

Emprise du Lion was cold; they all knew that upon arriving in the area. While they dressed accordingly with armor that offered a bit more padding and insulation, neither Varric or Cassandra were equipped to adequately handle the cold within a room that barely saw light. What made it worse – and caused Varric to have concern – was the sound of wind picking up outside.

It was negligible at first, but Varric eventually pulled his legs close to his chest as Cassandra was, trying to keep warm as best as possible. Cassandra, meanwhile, had begun lightly shivering. With the cold waking her, the Seeker moved herself to the corner of the room on the side of the entrance to avoid feeling the worst of the wind.

“Seeker,” Varric spoke as Cassandra repositioned herself. He didn’t realize how cold he was until he heard his voice shaking. “Do you have any of our supplies? Something to start a fire?”

Cassandra exhaled, her breath visible only to herself in the darkening cave.  She shook her head. “No, Dorian had everything.”

Varric lowered his head so that his forehead touched his knees. “You may just need to kill me, Seeker; I’d rather a quick death from your sword than a slow, painful one from this cold.”

Normally Cassandra could easily identify Varric’s joking tone, but amidst the exhaustion and cold, all that she could say was “Varric?”

“Okay **don’t** kill me,” Varric responded. “Maker knows I only have to say that once a day.” As usual, he could feel Cassandra’s disgusted expression directed toward him. “But we’re going to have to figure out something or we will freeze before anyone has a chance to find us.”

 “Maybe you would have been better off with Dorian,” Cassandra commented. Varric couldn’t tell if Cassandra’s tone was from the present situation or because Cassandra truly felt remorseful that she was unable to help.

“Maker, no!” The response came out louder than Varric had anticipated. He caught himself and what began as a laugh turned into a painful cough. After the coughing subsided, he justified his response. “Could you imagine that? Being trapped in a room with a man who would just be lamenting the entire time about how he couldn’t find a mirror or how it was took dark for you to admire his features?”

It was dark, but Varric swore he saw a slight smirk from Cassandra. “You have a good point. One might even think he would refuse to break down the wall so that you may enjoy the absolute privilege of his company.”

“Buttercup might be even worse, though.”

“Sera?” Cassandra almost sounded **horrified** at the notion.

Varric raised the pitch of his voice in a joking manner. “Maybe the friends of Red Jenny can help us. Not that we take orders or know what we’re doing or anything.” He made certain that there were lengthy pauses between each sentence. “We like to play pranks and sometimes kill people. We don’t really know.”

The joke took Cassandra by surprise and she laughed with her mouth still shut, the only noise coming out being an uncharacteristic snort.

“Seeker?” No response. “What was that?”

“You heard nothing.” Cassandra responded, her tone stoic.

Silence followed the exchange for a short while before Varric’s voice filled the room again. “Tiny would try punching his way out.”

“He would probably consider it some type of challenge, much like a giant or dragon.” Cassandra’s voice was light-hearted. “Vivienne would be slightly upset by the poor living conditions.”

“Seeker, did you just make a joke at one of our companion’s expense?”

“I had to stop your voice somehow.”

“Wow!” He swore she was smiling again.

“I think we both know who the worst person to be stuck with is, though.”

“The Inquisitor? Cole?”

“Oh no, they would both be just fine,” Cassandra returned. “It’s that Dwarf; I can’t remember his name.”

Varric was noticeably grinning. “You mean the charming, witty author?”

“I was going to use the words ‘conniving’ and ‘insufferable.’”

“It was the knocking, wasn’t it?”

“If you’d like me to compile a list…”

“That’s quite alright, Seeker! You’ve told me about your writing, and I don’t think we need to have you writing more than you need.” A rock broke into pieces not far from Varric’s head. “Hey! You almost hit me with that!”

“I’ll let you wonder if that was the intent or not.” Cassandra replied, her voice intentionally stoic.

“If I could mimic that noise you always make, know that I would be making it right now.”

By this point, the room had lost all source of light, and the gusts of wind were coming in stronger. “Seeker, if we die here…”

“We’re not going to die here,” Cassandra’s response was far from believable as her voice was shaking the entire time.”

“That was really convincing.” Varric moved into the corner opposite Cassandra and pulled himself into a fetal position in hopes of staying warm.

“Varric…” Cassandra’s voice was still shaking.

“Yes, Seeker?” Varric tried his best to moderate the shakiness of his own voice.

“You’re not going to like what I have to suggest,” Cassandra had a hard time speaking and there were extended pauses between words.

“I’m open to anything at this point. Knocking me out would even be preferential.”

There was a delay in Cassandra’s response as she worked up the gumption to suggest what she had in mind. “I once read in another romance serial…”

“You’re cheating on _Swords and Shields_?”

“Varric!”

“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but laugh a little, despite the following cough he knew to brace for.

Cassandra started over. “I once read in another romance serial about two people who hated each other who were both freezing.”

“Maker, I already know where this is going.”

“Varric! This is life and death. I don’t want this any more than you do.”

“You’re seriously suggesting we stay alive through a **hypothermia trope**? Seriously? That is one of the worst literary tropes to ever happen. It’s sloppy, unoriginal writing…”

“I’m suggesting we **stay alive.** ”

“Fine.” Varric finally responded. “But I’m not moving.”

“Of course you aren’t.” Cassandra stood up and began fumbling through the dark. She kept her right hand extended and against the wall so she knew that she stayed on the same side of the room as Varric. After almost tripping over a rise in the floor, her foot collided with Varric’s thigh.

“Yeah that’s me.”

Cassandra dropped her sword at her left side and sat adjacent to Varric. Both of them were sitting with their backs against the walls and knees slightly raised. Their shoulders were barely touching at this point. “That’s not how this works, you know,” Varric said. Even he was uncertain if he was complaining or simply making fun of the Seeker.

“Then who…” She knew **what** she wanted to ask, but not at all **how** she wanted to ask it.

“I told you, Seeker, I’m not moving.”

Cassandra yelled – as much as she could yell with as cold as she was – in frustration. “Fine! Would you **at least** button up your shirt? That’s probably part of the reason why you’re so cold, anyways.”

“No can do.” Varric now was getting too much amusement out of the situation to stop the roll he was on.

She sighed before physically lifting Varric’s left arm and sliding the top half of her body beneath his arm and pulling it down across her stomach. There was not a word spoken for the moment that followed, until Cassandra noticed Varric’s right arm still rested at his side. “Varric,” she said, in as serious of a tone as she could muster.

“Yes, Seeker?”

“Your right arm.”

“Yeah, I have to lift a lot of heavy objects throughout the day and carrying Bianc –“

“Varric, that’s not what I mean.”

“I guess I’m confused then.”

“Clearly,” Cassandra was becoming more and more frustrated by the moment. “Your right arm needs to be wrapped around me, too, otherwise we’ll lose heat.”

“Oh!” Varric feigned ignorance. “My mistake.” He then brought his right arm around Cassandra, pulling her in closer in the process.

Another moment of silence passed. “You know, Seeker, I’m surprised you actually give off body heat, considering how cold your heart is.”

She was clearly affronted. “I do not have a cold heart!”

“You’re telling this to the person who you’ve either attempted physical harm or threatened physical harm to on multiple occasions.”

The Seeker took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?”

“Don’t push your luck, Varric.”

Varric casually lifted his right arm and ran his hand across the top of Cassandra’s head with his fingers sliding through her hair just once before positioning his arm around her again.

“Varric, did you just…?” He couldn’t tell, but he assumed the Seeker’s face contained an puzzled yet pleased expression, based on her tone.

“Did I just what?”

“Never mind.”

The two remained in silence for the rest of the night; the only movement occurring when Varric would casually stroke Cassandra’s hair. She knew he had fallen asleep first when the motioned stopped for a prolonged period of time.

The two were eventually woken up by a loud crack and the sound of rocks falling. Cassandra did not move, but Varric immediately reached for Bianca with his right hand and pointed her at the door.

“The rescue is here!” Dorian exclaimed happily as he walked through the now-cleared opening, a huge grin on his face. When his eyes met with Cassandra and Varric – neither of which had moved from their positions through the night – the entire group shared the same, blank-faced demeanor.

“Sparkler,” Varric eventually broke. “If you say anything…”

“ **I** will kill you,” Cassandra finished.

The Inquisitor followed Dorian about a moment after, looked at the two, and immediately exited the room with Dorian in tow.

Cassandra – now fully awake – moved out of Varric’s hold and jumped to her feet, picking up her sword in the process. She ran ahead to follow the others, and all Varric could hear was “stop! You don’t understand! Allow me to explain!”

Varric continued to sit for a moment, chuckling to himself. When he finally brought himself to his feet and walked to the exit of the room, he looked back once more at a notch on the wall – a notch that he had made while looking for an exit.


End file.
